


Too Many Secrets, So Little Time...

by PhakeFysics



Series: Breach: The Archangel Job [1]
Category: Breach: The Archangel Job
Genre: Internal Conflict, M/M, shower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:09:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21793528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhakeFysics/pseuds/PhakeFysics
Summary: Spoilers for FBI/Informant route at the end of Breach: The Archangel Job.
Relationships: Gabriel/Raphael (Breach: The Archangel Job)
Series: Breach: The Archangel Job [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1570501
Comments: 6
Kudos: 47





	Too Many Secrets, So Little Time...

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for FBI/Informant route at the end of Breach: The Archangel Job.

It’s weird… the down time after the attack on the Mill was jarring, but welcomed. You had lost the trust of your crew… their forgiveness and trust hard-won, and you knew you’d be scraping to earn your keep once more. You’re sure Raquel and Michael kept an even closer eye on you after all this. Who were you kidding, of course you’d be ratted out. There’s always a loose thread, and the mole was always sniffed out. Even in the media, the mole rarely won. The bad guy; the villain in all this.

You hadn’t had time to really enjoy what Chicago had to offer, having hit the ground running since you had gotten here. And the fact that you always felt you were looking over your shoulder at any moment, you finally understood why the Trio never took their masks off… and based on what you heard with eavesdropping the interrogation room, well… doubt was beginning to seep its way into your bones. 

Looking out the window of the living room, you chew your bottom lip in thought, crossing your arms before heaving a sigh. Mouse was out doing… something. He had told you what, but you couldn’t remember under the churning sea of your thoughts. You had defected… Sure, Michael had given you an ultimatum - leveling a rifle muzzle to your head - a gaping bullet wound already in your gut… but even before then, you were losing trust in the FBI… that night with House had opened your eyes…

_‘The FBI will throw you away as soon as you stop becoming useful. You’re expendable.’_

Michael’s words echoed in your head, and that night you realized something… No matter whose side you were on; you’d lose. The game felt rigged from the start… 

A soft metallic pop from the kitchen stilled your thoughts - the slight warp an oven put on a baking sheet of cookies. You turn your head ever so slightly, turning your ear more towards the kitchen as a cupboard gently closes. 

Your eyes trail down to the coffee table a few more inches to the left - and there sits the red smiley mask you had gotten so used to seeing. It was the one with the dark lenses this time; it’s endless void-filled eyes peering up at you in a silent joke only it understood. The smile mocked you with an inhuman grin as you stared back at it with an unwavering defiance.

_‘Liar. You’ll die like all the others.’_

You frown at the mask, unsure if it actually spoke or you were just projecting. Regardless, you look away, eyes returning to the kitchen - or what you could see of it - from where you stood. 

The familiar shape of Gabriel enters your vision as he works to clean up his mess from baking a batch of cookies. Or cakes… He said they were called Madeleines… good with coffee. You figured he was making them because you liked coffee and he wanted to bake you something. 

Or he was just really, exceptionally bored and was babysitting you to make sure you didn’t call the FBI. Honestly, you wouldn’t blame him. 

You liked Gabe, you really did… no, that was a lie. You loved him so deeply it hurt. It was weird, you have never seen his face, but something about those eyes drew you in and you drown in those blue’s. Those eyes of his could be cold and sharp - painful when they wanted to be, but when he looked at you, they’re like a still lake, gently pulling you under into a blissful weightlessness. 

But now he stood in the kitchen, apron tied around his waist, sleeves rolled to his elbows and that balaclava firmly hiding his features. You could just about make out the sharp angle of his chin and nose under the fabric. Honestly, you didn’t care if he has some facial deformity… he didn’t hit you, punch you, or cuss you out when you admitted to the crew who you were. You remember the looks of bitter, ugly betrayal and you vividly recall almost leaning into Michael’s gun barrel, wanting him to pull the trigger. 

But Gabriel jumped to your aid, holding you close, those blue eyes begging you, pleading you to defect. It all went so fast, but you swore you saw a look in those eyes that admitted how badly he didn’t want to lose you… not after the nights you two had spent together. You should have just told them earlier when your loyalties had been slipping far before hand. But you were naive and stupid… you underestimated them and thought you could quietly defect without them finding out.

Having almost forgotten you were staring, you watched as Gabriel paused in wiping the counter to look up and meet your eyes. By the way his eyes crinkled at the corners ever so slightly, you assumed he was smiling. You don’t return the smile, simply looking away with a sigh before heading down the hall and into the bathroom. You needed a hot shower. You were still a bit sore from the chaotic events a few weeks back, but you ignored your stiff muscles, knowing the scalding water would help.

-

Heading into the bathroom, you close the door and start the water and let it heat up while you undress. You move slowly and stiffly, discarding your clothes onto the floor without care. The heat of the water quickly fogs the mirrors and you step in, hissing at the sting of the water at first. Easing yourself under the strong spray, you stand there, letting your head hang forward, the water hitting the back of your neck and travelling down your back from there. You let out an involuntary sigh, letting your eyes slip closed, one hand on the wall to keep yourself steady. 

Standing there, you only move every now and then to shift where the water hits your back, allowing it to slowly massage the tension from your shoulders. You’re so lost in your thoughts, you don’t hear the faint clink of a belt buckle until the cold air hits your back as the shower curtain shifts. Your eyes shoot open and you instinctively reel your elbow back, connecting with a bare abdomen. Gabriel grunts, and you gasp, “Gabriel - the fuck? I coulda-” you begin to turn to face him but stop.

You spy the counter from the opening of the shower curtain - and you see his balaclava on the counter, his clothes mingling with yours. It’d be so easy… just to turn, to see his face. You catch the faint movement of him rubbing his stomach, only catching his vague, nude form. You stand there, contemplating. It would be so simple, you wouldn’t even have to turn around fully, just cast your eyes further to the left. Your peripheral vision is good, but he stands just out of its limit.

He stands there, seeming to wait - seeing if you’ll give in to the temptation, the curiosity. You remember in your time at the Library, having your curiosity piqued by the religious connotations the Archangels held, outside the crew. The names of the Archangels themselves - Michael, Gabriel, Raphael… There were more but you had stopped skimming when the names became unfamiliar.

Gabriel was described as God’s trumpet - the angel that came to prophets... The same impossibly unknowable and inhumanly gorgeous entity that told Mary her fate. Was this Gabriel the same inconceivably handsome and beautiful angel? You were tempted. The curiosity prickled at your mind like the pluck of violin strings. 

But even with all your asking, trying to sneak peeks, Gabriel was too careful, too adamant. You weren’t sure if he was scared for himself or the Archangels themselves… but despite knowing you could just turn and look - ruin the trust you had already cracked - you couldn’t bare to shatter the shaky foundations you had built this house on. With a reserved sigh, you face the wall again, staring down at the faucet.

“If you needed to shower, you could’ve just told me… I would’ve let you go first,” you mutter, fixing your eyes on the tile just above the faucet. Gabriel stays quiet, simply wrapping strong arms around your waist and pressing against your back. You have a few inches on him, but it hardly matters.

It’s a warm, strong body you had oddly come to know those nights the both of you spent in bed. The press of his lips to the back of your neck helped you relax a bit as you felt their familiarity. He enjoyed kissing your body; trailing his lips and nose against your skin, savoring every inch of you. He moved only to your shoulder blade, kissing the tense muscles before resting his head against your back. His hands wandered your front, taking in your form in as he trailed lower and lower, stopping just below your navel.

“I wanted to shower with you,” is all he replies, pressing his lips to your skin once more and heaving a tired sigh. You don’t understand how that man was still standing, despite what he said. No amount of determination and stubbornness will save yourself if your leg gets blown off. No amount of grit and gumption will keep you from bleeding out if your organs are punctured. Maybe they _were_ Archangels - because only a miracle from God Himself would keep them alive through all that. Especially Gabriel.

You stand there quietly, the guilt and regret of what happened at the Mill pulling you down, more and more. Your heart hurts, knowing this won’t last. Nothing ever does, and nothing ever will. 

The conversation from that interrogation room at Greg’s replays in your mind, over and over. You knew the Trio were more than just criminals for a righteous cause; modern day Robin Hood and the Merry Men. In your career of being an undercover cop, you could sniff out the secrets, but maybe not the details of those secrets.

You felt backed against a wall now, having thrown yourself in with this lot and sealing your fate. Before your thoughts can spiral further down, Gabriel shifts, pulling you flush against him, “You have that look again…” he mutters, hand on your stomach threatening itself lower. A blush races across your cheeks.

“What look? You can’t even see my face,” you retort in a murmur, barely audible over the spray of the shower. He responds with that warm, velvety chuckle of his, “I don’t have to. You’re thinking about the events at the Mill...aren’t you?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I was deluded in thinking I could quietly slip away from the feds… I lost my loyalty way before Michael saw fit to shoot it out of me. You know… I never told them much,” you shift, moving to glance over your shoulder to make sure he heard you, but you only glimpse his shoulder - a scar marring it. 

He hums, not moving, hands still greedily ravaging your body, avoiding below the belt. His fingers teased you for now, seeming to wait for their moment. You suppress a pleased shiver as his hand slides itself across your lower abdomen, your body beginning to betray you in the one way you hoped it wouldn’t. 

“I know you didn’t.”

“Of course you know. What don’t you know?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You can hear his smile - in fact you feel it against your back as he presses his lips between your shoulder blades, in the dip of your spinal column. 

You chew your bottom lip, wanting to ask him more questions, to confirm your doubts. You want to ask him about the guns the mysterious man left them… you want to admit you eavesdropped, but he stops those thoughts to a screeching halt as his hand finally finds its mark and you let slip a pitiful moan. 

Your cheeks grow hotter as he chuckles and you have to brace yourself against the wall, shuddering out a breath. “Gabe at least… at least wait until we’re out of the shower. I don’t wanna slip and crack my skull open,” you attempt, letting your eyes flutter shut, your head spinning as he takes his time on you. Bastard.

His second hand trails up, gently gripping your throat and jaw, pulling your head back and you feel yourself leaning into him. Your free hand moves back to touch him in return and you manage to grab his upper thigh, feeling the muscle underneath. You feel something begin to poke you in the back and your mind goes static.

“Go ahead and get out and dry yourself off… don’t bother getting dressed...meet me in your bedroom. I’ll be along shortly,” he purrs lowly in your ear, grazing his teeth against your earlobe and giving you one little tug, forcing another pitiful moan from your lips.

All you can do is nod, doing all you can from tripping over the lip of the tub as you fumble for a towel, wrapping it around your waist as best you can before hobbling out and to your bedroom. 

The chill of the room makes you shiver, your blackout curtains keeping your room pitch dark, despite it being just after noon. You dry yourself to some degree before easing yourself into bed and waiting for him. You keep your breathing as even as you can, despite your body’s neediness thanks to Gabe’s shenanigans.

It’s not long before your door opens and you see a strong, muscular and nude figure silhouetted in your door before it closes again and you feel the shift of the bed as he readily moves himself on top of you, stealing your lips with his and pulling you close. All your doubts and nagging thoughts slip away as you just enjoy Gabriel’s presence.

Maybe it’s better you never see his face or know who he is, because when the foundation inevitably cracks and everything collapses - maybe it’ll hurt less.


End file.
